Desert Wind
by A Wish On the Moon
Summary: Sometimes, she hears whispers of things that have been and will be, though she has no proof. At other times, however, she can hear nothing but the howls of the wind. The desert may speak, but she cannot always hear. And there, she believes, lay the problem. Naruto. 723 words.


**Disclaimer**: I lay no claim to any licensed characters or intellectual properties that were used in the making of this work.

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_Sometimes, she hears whispers of things that have been and will be, though she has no proof._

It tells of wars long past and of bloodshed. Sometimes, she thinks she can hear the screams of the dying, and it takes all she has not to collapse right then and there. There is too much greed, too much horror, and she can't help but cringe.

As she ages, however, the desert soon changes her, forcing ice into her heart so that she will never melt, grit into her teeth so that she will never drown, and fear in her heart so that she may grow to understand.

She cannot afford to remain as she is, weak-willed and kind and pretty. So she changes, changes her kindness to confidence and changes her will to steel. Her beauty becomes her poison, and the sharp tongue she acquires earns her respect.

She is far more than the princess of the desert, as her people begin to understand. She is a War General, the Queen of Sunagakure if she so chose it.

_At other times, however, she can hear nothing but the howls of the wind._

It is when Gaara is born that she can no longer hear. The constant strain of his murderous aura has perhaps closed off her ears.

Sometimes, she is grateful. However, those murmurings of premonition and knowledge are something that she values, and she'll be damned if that is taken away from her.

And so, every morning at the stroke of dawn, she finds herself awake and standing in the middle of the sands of time, listening, always listening, as she leans on her large fan.

Idly, she thinks that she will need a new one soon, one that can support her stormy wind jutsus. She plans on fulfilling her shinobi life, after all.

At least then she may extend her senses, and the desert might reply back.

But, try as she might, there is no response. And sometimes, often enough, she can't help but feel heartbroken, as if she has been abandoned for her incompetence.

Sometimes, when no is there to see but the sands of Sunagakure, she cries to herself, wanting the premonitions she had once had and the power that she had once held.

_The desert may speak, but she cannot always hear. And there, she believes, lay the problem._

As she grew older, she began to let go of such fantasies, believing those whispers to be nothing more than fragments of her memories. She grows harsher, stronger, less complacent and less kind.

She taints herself in blood and deceit, allowing herself no reprieve. She could not be a girl. She had to be a woman.

Her heart still loved, but the ice over it could not be melted. Her cockiness grew, and her standards had all but been banished, buried far beneath her dreams.

It is not until they meet in Konohagakure a sun brighter than Sunagakure's that she begins to understand.

It is not until Gaara's demon is sealed that she is able to breathe.

It is not until she has met and fought against and fought for the Shadow User that she believes once more in shinobi.

She soon begins to hear the murmurings through the howls of the wind once more. However, she has grown past that stage of herself, no longer needing stories to keep her company.

She thinks that for too long she had stopped believing. The desert may have spoken, but she refused to hear its words.

Perhaps, she thinks, she is the reason why the desert no longer calls out to her. It has left her, unwanted yet unyielding.

Though it may no longer speak, for she has willed away the whispers, she can't help but feel its nurturing caress push her along. The desert still loves its princess, no matter where she may go or what she may choose.

She spends the last day of her listening watching the desert winds whip up the sand, soaked in sunlight and as steady as the Earth.

She laments, knowing that this can only go on for so long.

But her decision has been made, and she can no longer change.

When Subaku no Temari leaves, she does not look back, and that is what separates her from those whispers of her ancestors.


End file.
